


Soon

by BunnyBubKook



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kinda, Mentions of Theodore Nott - Freeform, POV Draco Malfoy, Sweet Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyBubKook/pseuds/BunnyBubKook
Summary: Draco climbs the astronomy tower with hopes of escape from the holiday. Instead he finds a voice that almost makes him believe love is real. A year later he finds the owner of the voice. Perhaps Valentine’s Day won’t be so terrible this year, Draco thinks.This is a late Valentine’s blurb I’ve written. It is was inspired and loosely based off the song “Soon” from the animated film Thumbelina. I highly recommend listening to it either before or during reading.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You, Theodore Nott/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Soon

Theodore Nott tugs on the sleeve of Draco’s robe as they walk down the corridor.  
“C’mon man,” the boy almost whines in exasperation. “You’ve gotta help me out with Pansy. She hasn’t hinted what she wants for Valentine's Day at all this year, but I know it’s gotta be good.”

Draco lets out a sigh as he tugs Theo’s fingers off of him. Draco has never really understood Valentine’s Day. There isn’t anything about the day that should dub flowers, chocolates, and stupid little notes as romantic. Though, in all truth, there is not anything under the topic of romance that Draco’s understanding has ever grasped. He’s watched his father present his mother with a new finely jeweled accessory each year for Valentines, but it has never struck Draco as romantic. It has always seemed as routine as their silent family dinners. There is only one time Draco can recall finding something that resembled the definition of romance, something that could only be described as a love’s sigh -

Draco pauses in his steps to look at his desperate friend. “What about something with music?” Draco offers the suggestion carefully. Theodore’s face knots in pensive confusion.  
“Music?”  
“Yeah,” Draco replies. His mind stumbles to find a convincing reason as to why a proclamation through music is what he thought to suggest. “Hasn’t she been playing all those sappy old love songs? You could charm a note to play some mushy romance song and then leave a message at the end.” Draco nonchalantly waves his hand around as he explains the plan, making sure to seem uncaring. 

“That’s brilliant!” Nott exclaims, gripping the blonde’s shoulder in elation at finally having an idea that he can work. “But what song do I use? It can’t be the same stuff she has had on repeat.”

Draco knows what song he would use, but he won’t share it. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to. Within a fraction of a moment, Theodore is spinning behind Draco and pushing him along. “Where are we going Nott?” Draco drags the question past his lips with a grit of annoyance.

“To the greenhouse! I know just who to ask for song suggestions!”

If Draco knew that chiming in on his friend’s dilemma would get him dragged along for the whole journey, he would have kept his mouth shut. But, alas, here he is, being dragged through the greenhouse doors and up to a girl he has never seen before.

The girl startles at the two slytherins bursting through the doors. It’s to be expected, honestly. She is all alone, hidden amongst a group of large leafed ferns and unruly vines that move with a mind of their own. One of them reaches out to grasp her hair, but she gently brushes it away as she widely blinks at the invasion of Malfoy and Nott.

Draco takes note of her robes, ones that don’t match his. He never knew that Theodore had any friends outside of Slytherin house. Draco takes more note of her gentle eyes though, and of the rosey flush of her cheeks.  
“Y/N!” Theodore cheers. “Just the girl I was looking for! We need your help.” Draco raises his brow at the word “we”. The girl nervously flicks her gaze to Draco before returning it to Nott’s and giving a tentative “Yes?”

Theodore finally let’s Draco’s shoulders go, leaving him behind to step closer to the girl. “What was that song you used to hum last year? Does it have words? Can you play it? Sing it?”

Y/n draws a step back, trying to retreat from the Slytherin’s spit-fire questions. The ivy behind her gently cradles her into its foliage, protecting her. Draco keeps a close watch on her. His stoic mind slips into thinking that she fits well amongst the vines. Her subtle grace matches their’s.

“Which song,” she all but whispers.

“The one you always hummed to the plants during that herbology project we did together.”

“Oh...” Her eyes fix behind Theo, resting on nothing in particular. It looks as if she is trying to slip away from the situation. Draco can’t blame her. He too often wants to escape Theodore’s excessive enthusiasm, but, unlike Draco, she complies with the interrogation. “It does have words,” she slowly says.

“Great! Can you sing it.” Theo all but pleads. The boy is obviously daft to the nerves the girl is radiating, nerves that increase as soon as she hears his request. The vines hold her a little tighter. Draco is silently relieved that he is being offered comfort by them. It stops his fingers from twitching in an attempt to reach her. Draco does not understand his body’s new reflex. He chooses to ignore it.

Draco takes in her wide eyes, glassy with panic. He pushes a breath past his lips. “Knock it off Nott,” Draco chides. The scolded boy looks back at his friend with a pout.

“But Draco, my love life depends on this!”

Y/n pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and chews on the skin there. “Well...” she hesitantly chimes. “If it’s that important I guess I could, but you have to keep your eyes closed.” She is looking at Draco when she gives her condition.

Theo emphatically agrees, and Draco gives a small nod before letting his eyelids fall shut. He is curious about what this potentially romantic song is, and about how she will sound singing it. He can hear her suck in a breath. His anticipation begins to grow and imagine the tune she is about to release.

She starts to sing. It’s bright, and full of a hopeful longing. Draco’s face relaxes into disbelief. His mind briefly stills before it promptly hurls him into the past - back to last year, sitting on the steps of the astronomy tower.

~Flashback~

Today has been horrid. Draco had to sit and watch those he despised receive countless proclamations of affection all day long. Even pathetic Ron Weasley had gotten a few valentines at breakfast. Of course, Draco had received his fair share of notes and confession, and whilst it was nice to show off and revel in the admiration, he didn’t actually care much for the motions behind all the letters and chocolates. To him, a holiday revolving around love like this was preposterous. Draco does not understand the notion of romantic love. Admiration and respect he  
understands, but love? No. He has never seen it, nor felt it, so he does not believe it exists. It is just some glittery work to mask the sham of blind obsession, and after today, Draco was sick of it.

He sets off down the corridors. It’s after hours, but the Slytherin common room is still annoyingly buzzing with love-struck witches and wizards. So, Draco is headed to where he knows it will be quiet,

The dim , cool light of the astronomy tower’s staircase welcomes Draco. He has climbed these stairs late at night many times over the years. The brisk air of the tower has always been a solace for the boy. The stone steps click softly under his feet. The wells are dampt, and the hall is dark except for when he passes a lit sconce. It is all familiar, and the same as it always is when Draco comes. That is, until he gets closer to the top.

He can faintly hear a sound that is not usually there. Someone’s humming just barely falls down the stairs and into Draco’s ears. The boy continues upwards. A downcast sigh leaves his lips before he stones his face, fully prepared to kick out whoever is there. He’s just outside the ajar door when the trickling hum turns into a full melody that flies out the crack in the door and stops Draco in his tracks.

The girl’s voice, the one that is engulfing the air of the tower, is unlike he has heard before. Not only is it beautiful, but it holds a sincerity that is unfamiliar to Draco as it softly caresses his cheek. He sits down on the steps and simply listens. He can feel his heartbeat calm to match her tempo. When her sound fades, though it has only been a moment, Draco feels like he has sat there all night. He hesitantly stands. He wants to wait and listen for more, but he also does not want to risk her catching him on the stairs. He chooses to descend back the way he came and leave her be. It sounds as though she could use the solace the stars bring too.

He returns to his room that night, still not knowing what love feels like, but thinking that it might exist, and that he may now know what it sounds like, at the very least.

~End Flashback~

Draco opens his eyes as the song begins to near its end. He knows its ending soon because he has heard it before. He has heard her before. He can feel his heartbeat begin to thump and his face flush. This is not the usual Malfoy composure, but he can’t help it. 

Thankfully, she can’t see him. She sings with her eyes closed, partly because she is immersed in the song, and partly to pull away from the reality where two people are listening to her sing.

The vines have pulled her away from her, leaving her standing on her own. Draco can see her better now, and begins to realize he has been so inclined to watch her so intensely. It is her familiarity.

She makes so much sense now, Draco thinks. Since walking into the greenhouse he has been trying to make sense of her and the aura around her. It’s a pale blue, almost the same as his eyes. But, the fluttering haze around her is much more cool and refreshing than his wintry, gelid one. Part of him has been itching to draw closer to her, without reason, and bask in that aura. Though, now, there is reason to it, he supposes.

The feel of her presence is the same one that he sensed that night on the stairs. Perhaps it is the same because she melded her heart into her melody as she sang that night. It certainly feels like that now.

Draco snaps his eyes back just as she finishes. He stifles an awkward cough when she tells them they can open their eyes. Draco forces himself to not look at her, and instead he looks at his friend who has a dissatisfied look on his face.

“That’s really pretty Y/n, but I’m not sure it’s right for Pansy. It’s a little sad,” Theodore informs the girl. Draco wants to shove a mandrake down his friend’s throat for not appreciating the girl, and her voice that is so intertwined with her heart. Part of Draco is relieved though. This song, and the sound of her singing it, is the only time his heart has minutely fluttered. He doesn’t want to share that.

Draco’s train of thought is broken by Nott letting out a curse, exclaiming that he needs to leave, and fleeing. It leaves Draco and Y/n awkwardly alone together. She closely watches Draco and fiddles with the ends of her robes. What does she think of him, he wonders. Is she expecting him to throw some insult at her after that? He certainly has insulted other members of her house, but, despite that, Draco hopes that she isn’t anticipating the cruel facet of his facade. He could never insult her. Not even if tried. So, instead, he gives her a rare, sincere smile.

“That was really beautiful,” he compliments. “You should sing more often.”

Draco lingers just long enough to see her blush, and hear a small “Thank you” leave her. Draco gives a final nod to her and leaves the greenhouse, his mind looping her lullaby and forming a plan.

A few days later, you sit at breakfast with a solemn smile as you watch owls descend upon the great hall, delivering pink and red notes adorned with little heart-shaped stickers to your peers. You watch for a moment, before returning your attention to breakfast, knowing your owl is comfortably sleeping in this morning. You are reaching out to grab a piece of toast when a plain envelope decorated with a simple, silver seal, lands on your plate. You eye it curiously, before picking it up and opening it. You do so as gently as possible, afraid it may vanish, or turn to ash, or howl at you. Instead, you find it to be a short note that reads:

Please meet me in the tower where you sang to the star. There is a constellation that would like to hear more.  
~D.M

**Author's Note:**

> This is now the second little story I have written. I hope you enjoy it! It would be lovely if you would comment if you like it, or if there are any kind critiques you have for me. It would make my day to receive a comment I think. Actually, it may make my week. Either way, thanks for reading!!! 
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Bunny


End file.
